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Blue Hole

Pensive tempered thought
          in light morning fog that picks a fight
          as early birds forage for contentment

 My graveyard stroll on pathways
          with sooty traces of wet
          small puddles that smear the ground
                                    like a painter's blotched canvas

I am drawn to dark depths
          to peer into limits
          into a grim hole
swampy centre where blue feathers float on water
a Jay has squeezed its way to risk
          startled, it flees in squabbles
above the damp hard clay in mounds
          earth peaks that blot intrusion
a script waiting
till a quiet peace beckons someone
mourners at the edge
          heads bowed to slacken the ropes of grief

Blue hole
          the end of pathways
tender pause
          breaching boundaries
          of what we cannot snare.







Poem composed: May 29, 2021

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Date: 6/24/2021 6:38:00 AM
This is a colourful sadness. Well expressed. It’s interesting what we remember when we re live grief experiences.
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Brian Sambourne
Date: 6/24/2021 7:39:00 PM
Hi Richard, Thank you for your insightful comments. There's a local cemetery in which I tend to 2 graves. There was indeed a bird in the new grave hole dug. That image of resurgence from burial hole inspired the piece. Best wishes, Brian
Date: 6/6/2021 12:03:00 PM
Well done Brian, a wonderful pensive write. Congratulations on your win… Belle
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Brian Sambourne
Date: 6/6/2021 1:22:00 PM
So thoughtful of you to post an affirmative response. Thank you. The Blue Hole is a symbol in my piece - not simply life's final resting place but one of resurrection as the Blue Jay rises from the hole - a release, though it has left feathers behind after taking water. The last line - what we cannot snare: our sorrow at loss? depression? but also our limited understanding of death + the transformation of the soul. Brian
Date: 6/5/2021 7:40:00 AM
A Beautiful Poem. Congratulations!
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Brian Sambourne
Date: 6/5/2021 6:25:00 PM
Hello Christuraj, thank you for your affirmative response. You certainly were tenacious in seeking it out in its minor placement. My appreciation. Best wishes, Brian
Date: 6/4/2021 10:11:00 PM
Dark, though intriguing take on the contest. I love your line "small puddles that smear the ground like a painter's blotched canvas."
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Brian Sambourne
Date: 6/5/2021 5:54:00 AM
Thank you, Juliet. As you note, it's a dark piece + may not garner much attention. However, I appreciate your take on my simile. Unusual comparisons interest me. Best wishes, Brian
Date: 6/1/2021 6:06:00 AM
Reads like a good contender for the contest. Way to go. It is very descriptive and expressive work. We can't go there until our time and we hope that the other members of family or our friends had made the right choice so that we will meet again to share in life but a totally different life for sure. Thanks for the visits to my page. Sara
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Brian Sambourne
Date: 6/1/2021 7:29:00 AM
Hello Sara, Always a treat to read your thoughtful comments. Thank you. Let's pray for that second meeting indeed. Till "our time" we do the best we can, ethically, in making the right choices. Be well. Brian

Book: Reflection on the Important Things